


The red liquid

by Ziriath



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 03:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17697080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziriath/pseuds/Ziriath
Summary: Lord Vetinari meets Young Sam and accidentally replaces one his obsession with an other, even more embarassing one.





	The red liquid

-''Ah, Havelock, nice to see you. Can you please look after my little boy for a while? It seems Lady Emma's Lord Toofy is really unwell and we have to give him his pills, or we will have to pick up pieces! Many thanks, gods will reward you!''

Lady Ramkin did not wait for response. She turned away, silk rustled , and she was gone. A crackle of whip was heard, sound of hooves on the cobblestones faded somewhere in the distant ambient noise of the city.

Was this some kind of test?  Leave one's own child to see how can childless lord Vetinari handle small children?

Some other time it would be more appropriate, but now, during the summer end garden party, he felt quite unwell. A while ago he had ordered a special drink that must've contained everything supposed to treat cold, thrown together into one large mug. The base colour was dark red and on the surface were floating chunks of something that looked like dead maggots – most likely grinded ginger root.  But so far it seemed nothing in the universe can relieve him from the irritating sickness which temporarily turned him into a pitiful shivering wreck of a human being, or at least he felt so.

He overlooked  the present crowd. This was a child-friendly party, and it was held in the safe part of the Palace gardens, as the tradition dictated. One of the benefits for the Patrician was, that the parents had to watch out for their children so they are not going to kill themselves or get lost forever somewhere inside the insane artificial topography – or, almost as bad, talk to children of someone they despise – and the less attention they paid to what they are telling to someone, for example to the Patrician. There were many children, and considering how present adults behaved to them, with all the faked lisp and stupid diminutives, he, Havelock, might've been the most decent choice to leave their child with, after all.  
He shuddered a bit, and then looked down.

The child's large eyes were fixed on him. In a yellow-black striped suit it looked like a big bumblebee _. Did I ever look like him?_ Havelock thought. Most likely not.

Standing upright*, he outstretched a thin claw, and shook the child's little hand, which  was, thank gods, not any sticky from eating all those nice desserts from the tables around. He has even shown teeth in a short smile. A salamander  flashed from somewhere behind.

It wasn't the first time young Sam saw the weird man named lord Vetinari, but today he could talk to him without his parents around, and also he did not notice him much back then. Sam's  father has disappeared at least a hour ago - to solve an urgent matter of a sudden crime he must've been eagerly waiting for since the beginning of this party.

Wait, weird man? From the closer view he does not look as vampyric as on the iconographs or from far view. He consisted mostly of black clothes which apparently had not much of body underneath. Sam peered into the man's eyes. A bit feverish, but quite like his father and about half the people have, he thought. Nothing unusual, no trace of red except some cracked veins due to heavy coughing. His teeth are quite normal – no enormous fangs that do not fit into one's mouth. Also his hand is too warm. What about pointy ears? There is still some chance, as his ears were hidden under thick hair.

-''You do not happen to be a vampire, by chance, sir?'' asked little Sam with a certain trace of hope in his voice .

-''I do not wish to disappoint you, but as far as I know, I am not. ''

-''But you know a vampire lady. Will I ever see her?''

-''It's very possible you will.''  _Maybe more times than I will ever do_ , thought Vetinari solemnly.

-''Does she have big fangs? And very pointy ears, and red eyes?''

-''Indeed she does. Her eyes  glow faintly in the dark. ( _those damn crimson eyes_! he thought and took a sip of the dreadful mixture)  They get more red and shiny when she's upset. Or hungry. But you would not want to meet her in such situation...Wait, why do you wish to meet a vampire?''

-''I have several questions I want to ask her, sir. But every time I ask someone, like Miss Sally from my father's work, or Mr. Otto from the news, they look shocked..or embarassed.  And then they vanish. Like steam above pot. Or turn into a flock of bats, and fly away. Or flash a salamander into their face, without sunglasses on. Seems like they do not want to answer. But maybe vampires living in Uberwald are different?''

-''May I know, what do you want to ask a vampire?'' asked lord Vetinari, slightly afraid the boy himself wants to be _turned_. Or even to date one and wants an advice.

-''Ahem. Do vampires have to use toilet? How often? Aaand do they only pee, or....''

Lord Vetinari  wanted to say something, but suddenly felt the sip of drink he was taking went  wrong way. He quickly turned away.

It sounded quite like someone shoved a metal bar between  gears of a factory machine. Little Sam backed away as his imagination kicked in -  he did not want to be close when the man's chest bursts open and little metal gears and springs loose off.

But this did not happen. He just started to cough heavily, and some of the miraculous cold treatment splashed on the garden tiles. He slapped his back with his own hand, then produced from somewhere a large ivy-patterned handkerchief**, and wiped his face and tears from his eyes. Luckily, no salamander flash in this corner appeared this time.

-''Dear Sam, you just do not ask women such questions'', he said as he finally managed to catch breath. ''I mean, you  should not ask _anyone_ , unless you are their doctor! Look, ladies _do_ use toilet, but  one should pretend they do not have to..''

-'' I know. They always say they have to powder their nose. How silly. As if going to the toilet was something shameful to talk about.''

Lord Vetinari said nothing.

-''But, even when you are not a vampire, sir, can you tell me if they need, or not?''

Vetinari looked up to the sky, as if he was searching a proper answer written in the clouds. 

-''I do not know. It's a complex matter. There are so many kinds of vampires, so I am not sure....But, you know what? Can you read?''

-''Of course I can. I can even write!'' Young Sam looked a bit insulted.

-''Great. I am sure there's a book about vampire physiology in my library. There you might find your answer.  If I remember, it even has foldable pictures of vampires and their innards.''

-''Yes, I want to read it!''

-''Then follow me inside.''

Minutes later the man and the boy walked into the imposant palace library with stained glass windows – an arched hall full of ladders and three floors of galleries beautifully crafted from polished wood, with a giant Discworld model in the center.

-''Here you can find the books about medicine'', he pointed at nearby shelves .''I suppose the exact name of your book has to do with vampires. The search is up to you. '' said lord Vetinari as he collapsed on a sofa, still holding the half-empty mug in one hand, and a book in the other.  ''I will read a bit meanwhile, if you will want some book from an upper shelf, just tell a servant, please. ''

It seems it went easier than expected. He was afraid of not being able to entertain the child properly, especially in his wrecked state, but this one seemed to be one of the quiet, well behaved beings.

Two hours later, Young Sam was sitting at the reading table in reddish beams of early sunset, when the library door opened and lady Ramkin strode in, followed by strong smell of soot and ashes. She was dressed in sad remains of her fancy attire, burned on the places which were not covered by her protective armour.

A blanket on a seemingly empty sofa nearby  moved away and revealed just awaken figure of lord Vetinari.  He winced into the gold sunlight.

-''Ah, lady Sybil.'' he said slightly hoarsely '' Such a nice surprise.  I had a bit of talk with your son. Really enlightening and interesting conversation it was. Did the Toothy dragon survive?''

-''His lordship _took_ his pill, finally. Seconds before the catastrophe. But lady Sarah had to see an Igor, and will need some helping hand....''

-''Ah, I understand...''

Lord Vetinari stood up with certain difficulties, looked at the book Young Sam chose, and smiled.

-''It seems your vampire book was forgotten. But I know this one too. Truly educative. Do not forget to return it, and do not use things like strips of bacon as bookmarks, please.''

Young Sam gave him offended look.

-''Why would I do it? My father eats all the fried bacon as soon as it appears, anyway.''

Vetinari suppressed a smile as he saw Sybil's face.

-''Just joking...but you would not believe what do people place into poor books..Even snakes, not properly pressed, letting poison and the rest into the pages. Slightly big spiders, their legs sticking out from the book on all sides... The University librarian could tell. If you could understand him. I suppose his victims cannot tell.'', said Vetinari, as he wrote the card and placed it inside the file cabinet.''

-''Eh, do not scare him, please.''said lady Sybil.

-''With the book he chose? How he can be scared of anything? I admit, though, furious Librarian is surely something to be feared.'' he said and took out the ivy handkerchief again. ''I will continue in my rest. Please tell in the kitchen to fetch me a new cold treatment ...tea. Thank you, and have a good evening.''

-''Get well soon.'', said both Sybil and Young Sam in the same time.

Young Sam's eyes were shining, as he was leaving with the book under his arm, like it was some precious animal.

_SOME WEEKS LATER_

Usually it was Sir Samuel Vimes, who realised just minutes before he has an appointment with lord Vetinari. But today, It was Vetinari who suddenly realised he is about to have an appointment with, reportedly angry, Vimes. How unusual.  Especially as late as 11AM, when Vetinari was enjoying his herbal sleep-good tea and was mentally prepared for a well deserved rest.

As he was let in, Vimes rushed into the Oblong office, the beautifully carved door slammed behind him. A heavy book hit lord Vetinari's table. Its title read: **HUMAN PARASITES AROUND THE CIRCLE SEA Vol.1** (with coloured graphic illustrations)

-''This must be yours, sir. And do not try to deny that - there's a Palace library stamp inside.''

-'' Why would I deny it? Is something wrong with the book, sir Samuel?''

-''My son became obsessed with it! And not only that, he has plundered our library for all the medicine books with pictures, and does not talk about anything than illnesses and parasites!''

-''I guess all children are like that, when they find a new hobby. Something to be envied, I'd almost say...And what does lady Sybil think about it?''

-''At first she was glad he has found himself a new obsession, something else than all those esc..ecs..feces...Just until he kept telling her she should exercise more, as he's afraid about her future well-being...And that's not all, he points at people and guesses what illness they are suffering from. Hard to keep him quiet.''

-''I am curious what he told you _,_ when _you_ are so concerned about that. Almost a month later! Maybe he wants the second volume?'' replied lord Vetinari, covering his mouth.

-''I do not want you to borrow my son any of your obscure books anymore! You are _smiling_?  Look inside, sir. There is something for you.''

The book opened easily on the page where a neatly folded paper was placed. In childish, but careful  handwriting, there stood:

_**DIAGNOSES** _

_Acording the symptoma I afraid you suffer with Muntabian lung magot or consumption.see the book on page 567a . Gods now how you cout them in dis climat. Pity you are likely goin to die I liked you_. _I hope Igors can give you new lungs if, the maggots didnt get to your brain yet._

_Sam Vimes futur doctor. thank you for nice reading''_

-''I am _dying_? Nonsense. What do we have here?'' said Vetinari and skimmed the text on the opened pages.

_Muntabian lung maggot..transferrable from horses...Severe weight loss, fevers...remarkable paleness....overall weakness .....heavy coughing, in the early stages easily to be confused with consumption.....In late stages present larvae in coughed mucus along with lung blood.....terminal stage: larvae eating out patient's brain.......excruciating headaches along with sight disorders...unpredictable changes in one's behaviour..Insanity, hallucinations, dementia..losing control of bodily functions and basic movements...Exitus._

-''Larvae? What larvae? I do not know about any...'' muttered Vetinari, but then remembered the spilled ginger tea on the tiles, as he said it. ''I am sure he was mistaken. I really did not feel my best back then, but by now,  I am healthy as I can be.''

-''Gods know what he saw. I wasn't here.''

-''I can assure you and your son, that I do not have maggoty lungs neither my head, and also I am not ...consumed by consumption!''

-''So,  do you still think borrowing him the second volume is a good idea?''

-''Eh, maybe later -  his bedside manners and diagnose methods are something to work on..And his handwriting as well, I _could_ read it!''

**Author's Note:**

> *Everyone who deals with dwarves, has to unlearn bending in waist while talking to shorter people, unless they want to end their life with a lesser count of legs, or, thanks Igors, different legs. Lord Vetinari was a decent man anyway.
> 
> **Every proud wearer of black soon realises, that black handkerchiefs tend to look quite nasty, when they are used for something else than cleaning one's shoes.


End file.
